


What the Duck

by cuteashale



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek and Stiles are the proud parents of baby ducks, Ducklings - Freeform, First Kiss, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Slight pining, So Fluffing Fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-11
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-15 09:59:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1300813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuteashale/pseuds/cuteashale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thursday evening, Stiles and Derek are walking back to their cars after one of Scott’s not-quite-mandatory pack dinners, shoulders brushing companionably. “I like it when Kira picks the movie,” he says. “She has good taste. Duh, she’s dating Scott, but –“ <i>Peep</i>. “What the hell was that?”</p>
<p>He and Derek both look around, first at each other, then at the grass around them. They’re on the sidewalk in between Scott’s front yard and his neighbor’s, spinning around slowly as they hear it again. <i>Peep</i>.</p>
<p>“What the <i>hell</i>?” <i>Peep</i>. <i>Peep</i>.</p>
<p>It’s getting louder and they’re no closer to finding the peeping thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What the Duck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Captain_Loki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Loki/gifts).



> So, [captain-snark](http://captain-snark.tumblr.com) wrote a little prompt on tumblr and I saw it and was smacked right in the face for the idea of this story. I wrote it in about three hours and since then it's gone through a few minor changes because my fingers sometimes forget how to type, but it's here.
> 
> Read it on [tumblr](http://haletothequeen.tumblr.com/post/79240008339/aprettycoolpessimist-haletothequeen)
> 
> Now with its very own artwork courtesy of [aprettycoolpessimist](http://aprettycoolpessimist.tumblr.com)! Thank you so much sweatheart!

Thursday evening, Stiles and Derek are walking back to their cars after one of Scott’s not-quite-mandatory pack dinners, shoulders brushing companionably. “I like it when Kira picks the movie,” he says. “She has good taste. Duh, she’s dating Scott, but –“ _Peep_. “What the hell was that?”

He and Derek both look around, first at each other, then at the grass around them. They’re on the sidewalk in between Scott’s front yard and his neighbor’s, spinning around slowly as they hear it again. _Peep_.

“What the _hell_?” _Peep_. _Peep_.

It’s getting louder and they’re no closer to finding the peeping thing.

“Stiles…” Stiles turns around to see Derek crouched down beside a sedan parked on the street. He’s peering under the car at what looks like a big pile of leaves.

“What is it?”

“It’s ducks.”

“Ducks?”

Derek rolls his eyes and looks over his shoulder. “Yeah. Ducks. Like…seven ducks.”

“Babies?” Stiles practically bounces closer to Derek and kneels down on the grass, peeking under the car at the brown and yellow little heads popping up out of the leaves and sticks. “Five, six…seven! Oh man. Hi little babies. Where’s your mom? Derek, where’s their mom?”

Derek stares at him. “Am I a duck whisperer? I don’t know where their mom is.” He straightens back up, dusting off the knees of his jeans. “I’m sure she’s around. She wouldn’t just leave them.” He takes a few steps back and peers up and down the street, looking for any sign of her. He hears Stiles make a muffled sound and looks down. Two tiny ducklings are sitting on his left foot.

“Derek,” Stiles says through barely contained laughter, “I think you just became their mommy.” A third duckling hops clumsily into Stiles’ lap with a satisfied little _peep_. “Oh,” he says, looking down as the rest of the ducklings scamper out from under the car and start crawling all over the both of them. “I think we’re parents.”

~*~

John laughs for a solid five minutes when Derek and Stiles get to the house and each of them have two handfuls of ducklings.

“You’re telling me,” he huffs, chuckling. “That you found these ducks and they…they fell in love with you?”

“It’s called imprinting,” Derek sighs, scrunching one side of his face when Daisy – Stiles has already started to name them – bites at his ear.

“Yeah, dad! We’re their ducky parents since their mom is, you know…” He mimes slitting his throat, looks down at the ducklings sadly, then back up at his dad, eyes wide and pleading.

“Stiles, we don’t have any room for them. There’s barely any room for _you_ in your room.”

“But… But…”

“Derek. You have plenty of room for them, right?”

“Well, I –“

“Great! You take the ducks. Stiles can help you out. Be home before midnight.” And he closes the door on them.

Stiles sighs and looks down at the two ducklings in his left hand. “Grandpa doesn’t love you like I do,” he says forlornly.

“Peep,” says one of the ducks.

~*~

First of all, they need to get an incubator. There’s no way the ducks are going to cuddle up to them all the time and they’ll get cold. Stiles spends ten minutes in Derek’s car with his eyes glued to his phone, researching everything they’re going to need for their ducks.

“They aren’t _our_ ducks, Stiles.”

“We’re their daddies, Derek! Well, I’m their daddy. You’re the mommy.” He grins when Derek glares at him.

When they get to the clinic – after calling Scott and asking him to tell Deaton they were on their way – Deaton hands over a heat lamp with one of his secret little smiles that always makes Stiles just a little bit suspicious.

Stiles carries it proudly back to the car and has to bite down hard on his lower lip to keep himself from cackling with laughter when he sees Derek’s scowling face through the window. He’s absolutely _covered_ in ducklings. Somehow, Stiles doesn’t think he hates this as much as he's pretending to.

~*~

When they get to the loft, Stiles lets down the ducks in his arms and they all start running around, bumping into each other and tumbling over one another as they investigate their new home.

“Aww, they love it here.”

Derek sighs. “Just – keep an eye on them. Let me find a basket or something.” He walks away and only pauses because he hears Stiles snicker and feels a little tug on the leg of his jeans.

“Daisy missed you already.” Stiles juts out his lower lip in an exaggerated pout and laughs when Derek dips down and scoops Daisy into the palm of his hand. “Somebody has a favorite,” he whispers to the others.

Derek comes back ten minutes later with a laundry basket, three towels, and a duckling. He’s not even surprised to see Stiles sprawled on the floor in the middle of the room with the remaining six ducklings climbing all over them. Daisy peeps softly from her perch on his shoulder and he very resolutely resists the urge to turn his head and kiss her on the beak.

“I’ve named them,” Stiles calls, holding up one of the ducks. He flaps his little wings and kicks his feet and Stiles laughs. “You already know Daisy.” Derek glances at the duck on his shoulder and sets his basket on the ground. He catches her as she tumbles off of his shoulder and gently places her on top of the folded towels at the bottom of the basket. “This is Bradley.” Stiles wiggles the duck in his palms and grins up at him.

Derek sits down on the floor beside the basket and accepts the two little ducks that crawl into his lap. “That’s Miki, the one on your hip.” His hand scoops up the other one and she bites lightly at his finger. “That’s Allie.”

“Where are you even getting these names? Who’s Bradley?”

Stiles holds up Bradley, who peeps at Derek’s face. “This is Bradley! And this little one is –“

“Don’t I get to name any of them?” Derek asks, picking up another tiny duckling. He places him down in the basket with Daisy. “That one is Winston.”

“Winston?” Stiles echoes incredulously. “That’s an old man name.”

Derek glares. “It’s his name,” he replies, patting Winston’s head with one finger.

“Fine. This little guy is Gus. Say hi to daddy, Gus.” Gus peeps and waddles over to Derek. Another duckling sticks his head into Derek's pant leg. “And, last but not least, Roger.”

~*~

The ducks do not appreciate Stiles leaving. They cry so loudly for so long that Derek gets desperate enough to call him. It’s one in the morning, he wants to go to sleep, but the ducks are peeping sadly and running around in their basket; he can hear the little thuds as their beaks bump into the sides, even though every side is cushioned by a towel.

The phone rings for three minutes before Stiles picks it up with a mumbled, “Bhluh?”

“Stiles?”

“Der’k?”

“The ducks won’t stop crying. Can you Skype me?” He listens to Stiles mumble groggily about silly little ducks but he can hear his computer booting up and he sighs with relief. “Here that?” he whispers, reaching a hand down to pet a few of the ducks soft backs. “Stiles is coming, it’s okay.”

Even half asleep as he is, Stiles’ heart clenches. He clicks on Derek’s name on his Skype – Cora made it for him so they could stay in touch – and waits for the call to go through. When it does, he’s face to face with a sleep mussed Derek and, honestly, he wasn’t prepared for that. “Hey. Talk to them,” Derek mutters, picking up his laptop and placing it inside the basket.

“Babies!” Stiles greets, smiling at the fuzzy little heads he can see bouncing around through the webcam. “Are you being too loud? Shh, it’s okay.” He yawns and spreads himself back out on his bed, laptop perched on his chest. “You gotta sleep for me, okay? S’too late for peeping. Shh. Allie girl, no backtalk. Sleep time.”

Derek listens to Stiles murmur to the ducklings for a half hour before he falls asleep, his head and one arm hanging off the edge of the bed. He wakes up in the morning with a crick in his neck and seven baby ducks peeping desperately for his attention.

It’s going to be a long day.

~*~

Friday after school, Derek is feeding the ducklings lunch when Stiles bursts into the loft. Immediately, chaos ensues. Seven pairs of webbed feet tear off through the loft toward the front door and Stiles exclaims happily as he bends to accept kisses from every little beak. Derek pads over with a soft smile on his face and Stiles straightens, grinning. “You gonna gimme a kiss too?” he teases.

Derek scoffs and turns to walk away, but not before Stiles sees the flush on his cheeks.

“More on that later,” Stiles stage whispers to Gus. Then, a little louder calls, “Where are you going?”

“I thought I’d run them a bath,” Derek calls over his shoulder. Daisy and Miki are trailing after him, Winston only a foot behind them. “I tried letting them play in the sink earlier but it’s not big enough for all of them.”

“Ooh, good plan!” He wanders into the kitchen and grimaces at the sight of squished earthworm. “Is this what he’s feeding you? Yuck.” Allie peeps at him and he picks her up as the glances back at the others. “Come on, babies. Let’s go have a bath.”

He leads the way into the bathroom where Derek is standing, stripped down to his boxers, with a duckling in either hand. “Um,” Stiles says. Derek flushes and places Miki down on the bath. Instantly, she starts peeping desperately and flapping around, trying to get back into Derek’s hand.

“She won’t stay in there without me. So I figured we could just get in.” He shrugs and scoops Miki up again, letting her shake herself off in the palm of his hand.

“Oh. Okay, yeah. Good plan. You get in first.” Derek gives him a curious look but Stiles just gestures and finally Derek steps in. It’s a big bath, big enough for both of them and the ducks, but this is going to be the closest Stiles has ever come to a wet, naked body since he was six and splashing Scott in the bathtub.

He starts handing Derek ducklings, wasting time doing that so he doesn’t have to think about stripping down to almost nothing and climbing in there. Thank God he wore boxers today; briefs wouldn’t have left anything to the imagination.

When all of the ducks are happily swimming around Derek, peeping ecstatically and splashing each other, Stiles peels off his jeans and drops everything but his boxers into the pile of clothes Derek’s already made against the wall.

He climbs into the tub slowly, gingerly sinking in up to his belly button. The ducklings swim away from Derek and crowd around him, bumping against him and peeping excitedly. “Aww, daddy missed you too!” His fingertips drip water over their heads as he pets them, but they don’t seem to mind. They don’t stop talking away to him and Bradley even tries hopping onto his shoulder.

His toe nudges against Derek’s legs and he smiles. “Missed you too. It’s hard being a single parent, huh?” Derek laughs softly and reclines against the back of the tub, fingers running down Allie’s soft back.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “They cried for you all morning, it was awful.”

“Aww, poor babies. Oh, speaking of this morning, I told everyone about the babies. They want to meet them. Bradley, do you wanna meet your aunts and uncles? I bet you do.”

Bradley bites Stiles’ chin and he huffs and pushes him gently into the water. “No bites, Bradley,” he scolds. “They’ll probably come over later. Kira seemed thrilled.”

Derek laughs and Stiles is really starting to enjoy the smile on his face when it abruptly falls off. “What?” he asks worriedly, eyes instantly dropping to count the ducklings. Seven, just like there should be. “Derek, what?”

“They’re here.”

“Who’s here?”

“The pack.”

Stiles opens and closes his mouth a few times, glancing at his bare chest, then Derek’s. Their legs are tangled together under the water and their ducklings are swimming happily in between them.

“Oh my God,” he says softly. That’s all he gets out before everyone – and he means everyone – bursts into the bathroom.

“Oh my gosh!” Kira squeals, both hands flying to her mouth. Scott has the biggest grin on his face and Lydia has started taking pictures.

Stiles and Derek exchange a slightly horrified look before sighing and succumbing to their fate.

~*~

Three hours, two pair of boxers, and six dozen embarrassing photos later, Derek gently but firmly insists that everyone leave. The ducklings are sitting on Stiles’ lap, sleepily fighting each other for the prime spot right against his stomach where he’s the warmest. He waves from the couch as everyone trails out of the loft, Kira blowing kisses to the ducklings as she leaves

“You staying?” Derek asks wearily, flopping himself across from Stiles on the couch. Stiles nods, shooting him a lazy thumbs up before resting one hand back on Gus. Daisy peeps softly and waddles over to Derek, curling up in a tiny ball on his lap. It didn’t take them very long to figure out that she was one of the ones who claimed Derek as her own two minutes after hatching.

“M’taking over your bed,” Stiles mutters, scooping the ducks into the fabric of his shirt. They peep to complain about being jostled but are quick to adjust once Stiles has flopped backward on the bed. Derek trails after him with Daisy in the palm of his hand and slides into bed beside him, letting Daisy nuzzle up under his chin.

He and Stiles lock eyes and he smiles, tentatively reaching out to brush his fingers against Stiles’. “Thanks,” he says softly.

“For what?” Stiles asks, head turning more fully toward Derek.

“Just for helping. You’re a good duck dad.” Stiles grins and gently threads his fingers through Derek’s.

“Thanks,” he whispers.

~*~

When Stiles wakes up on Saturday morning it’s to Derek jogging barefoot around the loft, seven tiny ducklings running after him and quacking. Well, peeping. They aren’t quacking yet.

“What,” he says flatly, groggy with sleep. He was expecting to wake up without Derek in bed with him but he’d figured he’d have fled into the kitchen or left the country or something. But no, Derek’s running around the loft with the ducks and he looks completely fine. Not awkward at all.

“Thank God,” Derek sighs, jogging toward the bed. “I’ve had to pee for an hour but they wouldn’t leave me alone and I didn’t want to wake you.” He starts piling ducklings on Stiles’ lap, one after another after another until they’re all waddling around the sheets and plucking at it the shirt covering his chest.

Derek smiles down at him and bends over, gently kissing the corner of his mouth. “Morning,” he says softly.

Stiles looks after him as he disappears into the bathroom, a dazed smile on his face until Bradley bounces up and bites his ear. “Ouch, Bradley! No bites.”

Bradley peeps at him in annoyance.

Absolutely none of this is normal.

But really, is anything normal when your boyfriend – boyfriend! – is a werewolf and you have ducks for kids?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
